


Close to me

by neworld



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Drinking & Talking, Gen, Recreational Drug Use, Sibling Bonding, Sick Klaus Hargreeves, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2020-09-01 23:42:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20266468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neworld/pseuds/neworld
Summary: Klaus has been out in the world somewhere doing god knows what, but comes home to get some rest.  He wakes Vanya up and they drink and talk about their plans to move out of the academy.The title is from the song by the cure, which Klaus makes Vanya listen to.





	1. Vanya

It was late and the Hardgreeves mansion was dark and still. Vanya lay awake listening to the soft sounds of the sleeping house. It was the quiet that was keeping her awake really, the house felt so still and empty, she didn’t like it. It had once been a noisy, chaotic place, inevitably with 7 children, but one by one their voices had vanished. 

Five had been gone for years now, disappearing one morning after declaring himself ready for time travel. His absence had been the hardest to deal with. Perhaps because it was the first, perhaps because she had been so young or maybe just because he was the sibling she was closest too, Five leaving had been profoundly upsetting for Vanya and she had never really recovered.

Next to go was Ben. His death had been so sudden and tragic that it had deeply shaken all 5 remaining siblings. In a way they had lost Klaus that day too. Ben and Klaus were close the way Vanya and Five had been close, and with his death Klaus had withdrawn from his family. He had already been drinking and using drugs for some time, but without Ben around getting high seemed his only motivation for doing anything. He came and went like a cat. Slipping out his bedroom window into the night and disappearing for days or weeks at a time, only to slip back in with a crooked grin and a bunch of rambling stories of what he had been up to that were equal part hilarious and terrifying. He would often be worryingly thin or beaten up and always infuriatingly nonchalant about the worry he had caused. But honestly, how could he not get how much it upset them to have a sibling suddenly vanish after Five? He was gone again right now. He had simply not appeared for breakfast several weeks ago and no one had seen or heard from him since. No one mentioned it but Vanya could see from the taunt expression on Luther’s face whenever he glanced at Klaus’s empty seat at the table, that he was worried too. Maybe this would be the time he never came back?

Diego had left right after Ben died. But he was considerate of his family’s feelings in his own gruff way. He didn’t leave suddenly; he left in stages, telling them his plans, finding an apartment, applying for the police. At first he had made an effort to come visit every few weeks. But his visits were strained, he almost always ended up arguing with their father, or Luther, or both. Diego’s visits dwindled to every second month or so even though he lived nearby, now they only saw him rarely, but Vanya had a feeling even that would fade to never. 

Allison had left very recently. She had become interested in acting and was off filming some teen romance film abroad. It wasn’t the first time she had left for an enterprise like this but Vanya had a feeling that this time she wasn’t coming back. Luther was just so devastated, like he was grieving. 

Vanya herself was leaving soon too. Not that anyone would care... She was going to university to study music, her only real talent. She worried that it was not enough of a talent to fill her life with. But her father had always been oddly supportive of her violin playing. When she told him she wanted to study he had offered to buy her an apartment near her university, he had not shown any emotion or expressed any pride but she still considered it a win. 

For now though it was just herself and Luther in the quiet, empty wing of the house. Their father and Pogo slept in the west wing of the house; she never heard a peep out of them at night. Mom was probably charging herself at this hour. It was raining outside and over the patter of drops on the roof Vanya could just make out Luther’s breathing in his room at the other end of the hallway. Vanya focused on this, trying to relax, trying to will her brain to be quiet and let her sleep. She almost had achieved this when a sudden, loud thump made her eyes pop open again, her body rigid, listening. There was another thump that sounded like a window sliding open suddenly, then muffled curses, giggling and more thumping.

“Klaus”, her brain supplied right away, creeping back into his room through the window. He had been gone for 3 weeks this time and she had been worried, as she was every time he left, that she would never see him again. So it was a huge relief to hear him stumbling in through the window in the middle of the night. Klaus continued to alternate between cursing and giggling but did not move away from the window. Curious, Vanya got out of bed and hesitantly padded over to his room. She flicked on the light earning a muffled yelp from Klaus who was still halfway out his bedroom window.

“Only me.” She told him quickly. 

Vanya crossed the room to him and saw that he was wearing some kind of long sleeved mesh shirt over a dark red singlet. The mesh had shiny black sequins and it had become hooked in several places to the window latch both on the window and sill. The trapped fabric pulled the garment into an awkward shape, obscuring Klaus’s face and making him have to stand half in, half out the window, hunched over and poorly balanced. 

“Vanya!” Klaus sounded delighted. “Hi, nice to see you…how are you?” He giggled again.

Vanya couldn’t help a small grin, she wordlessly unhooked him and he slowly straitened into the room as he was released. 

“My savior!” He beamed at her and enveloped her in a hug. Vanya recoiled as he was utterly soaked and the hug was like being draped in a wet towel.

“Klaus...” She began but he wasn’t listening.

“Vanya you have to listen to this _amazing_ song I just found!” He told her as he pushed himself off her and stumbled, nearly falling. His voice sounded a bit congested and raspy, she wondered if he was sick, or had just worn himself out with his rambunctious lifestyle. 

“Your clothes are wet, you should change.” She told him.

“Seriously Vanya, this song …it’s…wait…have you even heard anything other than classical music?” He was like a drunken whirlwind, stumbling around the room, digging through a shabby black shoulder bag and fiddling with the tape player. Once the music started he swept into a few dance moves then, halted, announced it wasn’t the song he had in mind and went back to the machine, scattering tapes with his careless, sloppy movements.

Vanya watched him with a mixture of amusement and trepidation, which is how she often felt around Klaus. He was wearing black leggings that had definitely belonged to Allison, they were ripped at the knees. The black mesh shirt was now also ripped and he was only wearing one shoe, making his movements even more disordered, like he was limping. He was also wearing black eyeliner and dark maroon lipstick. He would be in so much trouble if their father caught him like this. 

“Klaus...” She tired again but he was distracted by the song.

“_This_ is it Vanya...” He swayed to the rhythm closing his eyes, face blissful. “You have to.... really listen_..._ to the lyrics... shut up Ben you have no taste!” He abruptly snapped at the empty air to his left.

“Your clothes...” Vanya mentioned again, noticing the puddle forming on the floor beneath Klaus.

“Vanya, you’re musical what do you think?”

He turned to her expectantly and she noticed his pupils were blown so wide only a slender ring of iris was visible. She frowned a little.

“Are you high?” She asked

“As a kite!” He grinned hugely and threw his arms up; presumably to illustrate how high he was, but then abruptly pulled them back down clamped his hands over his face as he sneezed rapidly several times. Klaus was one of those people who are incapable of only sneezing once, which Vanya found oddly endearing. Sure he was flamboyant and beautiful and extraordinary in many ways that Vanya could never live up to, but he also fell into these ridiculous kittenish sneezing fits he apparently had not control over. This humanizing detail made him seem less intimidating to her. Diego had once been the same with his stutter, but he mastered it as he grew older, and he seemed to get angrier and less approachable every time she saw him. 

“Bless you.” Vanya told Klaus once he got himself under control, she examined him as he swayed to the music, biting her lip a little in concern, it was not a particularly warm night and Klaus was not dressed appropriately even if he hadn’t been soaked by rain. 

“Vaaaanya the soooonnnng?” He drew out his words as if she was the one being exasperating and unreasonable.

“It’s great Klaus.” She told him so they could move on. “But you need to change into some dry clothes.”

He waved off her concern with a loose flap of his arm.

“After you dance with me.” He took her hands and pulled her around the room swaying, his single boot thumping with every other step.

“You’ll wake Luther.” Vanya worried but found in spite of everything she was enjoying dancing with her eccentric brother and found herself relaxing into the rhythm. They danced around the room the rest of the song until Luther ruins it by wrenching the door open and scaring the shit out of them.

It’s a tie between who out of Klaus and Vanya has the girlier shriek. 

“What the hell?” Luther demands 

“Christ on a cracker Luther.” Klaus gasps, a dramatic hand on his pounding heart. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Luther is still a little sleep ruffled. His face all scrunched with confusion and annoyance. Vanya suspects he is more angry at Klaus for worrying them than anything else, but Klaus probably thinks he is mad about who Klaus is in general.

“I was off living my _best_ _life_ Luther.” He tells him, still swaying to the music. Vanya has come to a dead halt; her eyes flicker nervously from one brother to the other.

Luther smirks.

“Your best life as a transvestite prostitute?” He deadpans.

Klaus swirls around dramatically and flaps a theatrical hand at his brother.

“I know that was coming from a place of hate...” He says narrowing his eyes. “..._but _I am taking it as a compliment.” He bats his lashes and ducks into a small bow.

“Whatever.” Luther yawns. “Just remember, if you want to live in this house, you live by dad’s rules, breakfast is at 8:00 am sharp.” And with that he shuts the door on them only to pop it open immediately.

“And keep it down!” He snaps, slamming the door again

“Uuuuggghh whatever.” Klaus groans as Luther leaves. “That’s so early.” He whines to Vanya a few seconds later.

“We should probably get to bed then...” Vanya tries but Klaus is having none of it.

“No _Vanya_, ignore that _killjoy_!” He drawls, stumbling a little and finally removing his single shoe. He throws it unceremoniously behind him.

“Party time, you and me, and Allison, let's go wake her up too!" 

"Oh, Allison isn't home, she's filming in Europe for a few weeks.” Vanya told Klaus, she was sure she overheard Allison tell Klaus about this several times before she left, but Klaus could not always be relied on to remember details. 

"Just us then, never mind." He slumps on the ground and fishes around in his black shoulder bag for a minute.

“Except I’m all out of party.” He frowns briefly at Vanya, then brightens. “Let’s raid Dad’s bar!” He leaps up in a fluid movement that somehow manages to be both clumsy and graceful, grabbing her wrist and pulling her along as he goes. 

Vanya tried to protest but finds herself getting caught up in the manic energy Klaus exudes. It is so nice to be included. They tiptoe through the dark house to the study and Klaus snags a bottle of dark liquid from behind the bar. Vanya is sure at any second a light will snap on and their father will loom over them with furious disapproval. But Klaus seems calm and accomplished at the task. He has probably done it many times before. He moves like a cat, well like a drunk cat, but still he is very quiet. There is one moment of concern when he sneezes while they are still in a sound sensitive area of the house. He clamps both hands around his mouth a second too late to catch the first sneeze, and muffles several more into near silence, they freeze for a few seconds but there is no movement or sound in response and giggling they scurry back to Klaus’s room. 

Back in his room Klaus sneezes again and scrubs at his face with the back of his wrist, sniffling thickly.

“Ugh your such a nag.” He snaps to the empty air beside him.

“I didn’t say anything.” Vanya points out to him timidly.

“No no not you.” He flaps a lanky arm at her. “Ben, he’s always like _hey Klaus you shouldn’t take rides from strangers... Klaus don’t take drugs you find on the floor in nightclub bathrooms... Klaus change out of your wet cloths before you get sick...”_

“He has some valid points.” Vanya wonders if he had even noticed her saying the same thing earlier. She is unsure of what to think about Klaus talking to Ben. The other siblings don’t believe him considering he insists he can’t speak to the dead when high, but he talks to Ben no matter how high he is. Vanya is undecided, and neither encourages him or challenges him on the topic.

Apparently though Ben is still nagging Klaus, whether in reality or in his head because Klaus is glaring at the air again, he groans dramatically rolling his eyes.

“Fine I’ll change already.” He hadn’t even finished the sentence before he started shedding cloths. 

“I’m going to get us some glasses.” Vanya squeaks exiting the room quickly remembering Klaus has zero shame when it comes to nudity.

She snags two glasses from the kitchen and makes a quick stop at the bathroom to grab Klaus a towel for his wet hair and a box of tissues.

When she gets back to his room she finds to her relief he is clothed. He has changed into purple cotton leggings and a worn out old hoodie. But his whole demeanor has changed. He is sitting on the floor huddled with his arms around his knees looking morose and shivering. 

Vanya wordlessly places the tissues next to him and carefully drapes the towel over him. 

“you OK?” She asks softly. 

“Oh yeah.” He smiles at her and starts rubbing at his hair with the towel. “Just the comedown is starting, never mind had to happen eventually.” He shakily pours them each a glass of whisky. 

Vanya isn't sure what to say to this, should she be sympathetic? Should she scold him for his dangerous, illegal habit? 

“I’m glad you’re back.” She tells him shyly instead.

Klaus gives her a weak smile.

“It’s nice to see you sis but I’m not glad to be back. Reggie is gonna be all on my case about training.... and missions... and...and..” His voice fades out and he pulls the towel down from his hair to muffle a series of sneezes. 

“Bless you.” Vanya tells him again.

Klaus blows his nose noisily into the towel.

“I bought you tissues.” Vanya disapproves nudging the box.

Klaus dutifully pulled up a handful and sneezed into them instead.

"You sound like you're catching a cold," Vanya sympathized.

"Nah." Klaus disagrees. "It's just, you know, the Colombian flu."

"That sounds bad." Vanya said, alarmed, she wondered if this was some bad new strain she hadn't heard of.

Klaus chuckled at her worry from behind his wad of tissues. "Oh my god Vanya relax it's not really the flu...it's just what happens after you snort cocaine, like the cocaine version of a hangover." He told her matter of factually. 

Again Vanya had no idea what to say. Klaus sometimes seemed like a creature from another world to her. 

“We should wake Allison up to join us.” Klaus says suddenly, apparently forgetting their earlier conversation.

Vanya feels a stab of jealousy. After all he hasn’t asked her a thing about herself since he got back, or probably ever, he doesn’t want to hang out with her really, he just wants company and she is his only option.

“She left to shoot a movie in Greece.” Vanya reminds him again.

“Oh yeah, lucky girl." Klaus pauses and his breath hitches sharply, he hovers a hand in front of his face and blinks rapidly, but eventually just gives an irritated sigh and sniffs hard. "So just you and Luther huh? That must be... fun...” He downs his drink and pours a second.

“Actually I’m leaving soon too.” Vanya takes a small sip of her whisky. 

“I’m going to university to study music.”

Klaus lights up at this.

“Vanya that’s fantastic!” Klaus tells her.

“And I am getting an apartment near my collage.” She tells him. “You could come visit.” 

Klaus seems delighted by this prospect and Vanya wonders where he has been staying for the past few weeks. If asked he usually would tell hilarious stories, scant in details but the ones he did include were odd and whimsical. Like;

“Oh I was staying with this lovely old Italian woman, she let me sleep in her attic in return for talking to her dead husband once a week.”

Or

“I was at a party, then in a car, then at another party, are you sure I’ve been gone a week? That can’t be right...”

This kind of thing was standard Klaus after sneaking away, the kind of breezy, larger than life story that had once made Vanya feel dull and overly cautious. But as she got older she began to wonder at the details Klaus left out. The danger he was in out in the world as a young person, not particularly strong and usually without his full faculties. 

"Klaus, where have you been the last few weeks?" 

Klaus had rolled and lit a joint, he offered it to Vanya but she declined. 

"With friends." He told her vaguely, letting out a slow stream of smoke.

This reminded Vanya of a fear she had been harboring ever since her father had agreed to college. 

"How did you make friends?" She asked her brother. "I'm a little nervous about college, I've never really met anyone outside the academy." Vanya sounded pathetic to herself as she said this, she worried she sounded like a little kid about to start their first day at school. 

Klaus paused, considering her, his head tilted to one side. It had been a little hard for him at first, making friends outside the academy, they had been home schooled and not often allowed to leave the academy grounds, apart from when fighting crime, which didn't exactly require much socializing. It was a bit like they had been raised inside a weird cult. But he had overcome his lack of socialization fairly quickly with his natural quick wit and friendliness. It would probably be much harder for Vanya, she had not only been part of the weird little cult, she had been isolated within the already isolated community. And she was naturally shy and introverted. No wonder she was nervous about college. Klaus felt a small thrill at being able to actually offer some useful advice to someone for once.

"You'll be fine." He told her, breezy and confident. "All the other people you meet will be there to study music right?" He asked her.

"I guess... Vanya agreed.

"So you'll have a lot in common probably." He paused to cough into his fist. "You can all talk about your favorite... composers or whatever." 

Vanya looked undecided.

"I just can't really imagine it." She admits. 

"It gets easier." He told her sympathetically. "The more you do it." He coughed again after taking another drag of his joint, it went on for a while and sounded painful.

"Are you sure you're not sick?" Vanya asked.

"It's just the weed." Klaus insisted. 

"You know, all the symptoms from the various drugs you've taken kind of add up to the flu." Vanya pointed out.

Klaus chuckled somewhat bitterly at this. 

They sat in silence for a while, just listening to the music, eventually Vanya worried about how late it was getting. 

“I need to go to bed.” Vanya told her brother, getting up.

“OK sis, see you in the morning.” Klaus waved her off.

She smiled at him from the doorway as she left.

“See you in the morning.” She told him fondly, seeing his pupils were still massive and wondering if he would be awake in the morning, or maybe gone.


	2. Luther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this whole chapter, then my dog, who considers he has a better claim to my lap than my laptop, somehow managed to delete it when he clambered all over the keyboard. I was going to just give up on the fic but I had the day off work so I rewrote it.

On his way down to breakfast Luther stopped in at Klaus's room to check that his brother is getting up. He wasn't, of course he wasn't. Klaus was just a blanket covered lump in his bed, only a tiny slither of his face was visible between the pile of comforters he's wrapped in and his wild, curly hair. He snored congestedly and twitched in his sleep. Luther was about to wake him up but paused when he saw Klaus's face. Even with just one cheekbone and eye visible Klaus looked exhausted and not terribly well. Luther supposed he could just let Klaus sleep in, their father may not even have noticed that he was back. Though this was unlikely, their father noticed everything.

Undecided Luther looked around the chaotic room. The floor was a mess of dirty clothes, used tissues and empty bottles. There was a large puddle of water under the window and a thick funk of marijuana smoke hung in the air. Feeling suddenly irritated with Klaus, Luther shook him awake.

Klaus just gave a wheezy, disgruntled whine and retreated further under the covers, so that he was completely hidden.

Luther sighed and pulled all the quilts and blankets off his brother with one swift movement, revealing Klaus's thin form. He was only wearing underwear, but Luther counts himself lucky that at least he is wearing that. As soon as he's exposed Klaus hissed and curled up in a ball. He shivered and sat up to glare at Luther with puffy, bloodshot eyes, the smell of whiskey radiated from him.

"Luther..." He whined. Klaus has a way of saying Luther's name as if it is an entire reproachful sentence, it drives him nuts. 

"Get up, you know dad won't let you stay in bed all day." Luther tells him. 

Klaus whined again and stole back some of his blankets. He pulled them over his shoulders like a shawl. "But..." He paused and sneezed rapidly three times, pulling a corner of the blanket up to cover his face. He started to speak again but has to stop and sneeze another three times. He groaned, sniffled and cleared his throat with a disgusting series of noises then glared hazily just to the right of Luther.

"OK fine, you were right." He snapped at the empty air. Then he rolled his bleary gaze up to meet Luther's confused frown. "I hate it when he's right." Klaus told Luther sulkily. "He is going to be insufferably smug all day."

"What are talking about?" Luther snapped.

"I'm sick." Klaus said like that explained anything he'd just said, then he groaned again and rubbed at his eyes, further smudging his already very smudged eye makeup. 

"What do you expect? You stayed up all night drinking." Luther told him unsympathetically. It was so galling, the way Klaus messed up his body then complained about it, as if it were something that had been done to him against his will. 

"You need to be down for breakfast in the next five minutes." Luther tells him firmly, exiting the room. 

When Luther took his usual place at the breakfast table Vanya was already there. She tweaked a small, timid smile at Luther who returned a curt nod of acknowledgement. Luther would be surprised too learn that he often came across and unfriendly and intimidating to Vanya. He personally approves of her, it seems to him Vanya had always made the best of a bad situation. It must have been so disappointing to find she had no powers. But instead of acting out like Klaus,or Diego she did what she could to be helpful. Many years from now when he reads her biography he will be genuinely dumbfounded to hear she had felt unhappy and excluded. 

Luther looks morosely at the other empty seats. This was how things were these days, just number one and number seven. The first and the last, the strongest and the weakest. If he dwelt on it too long he felt an almost unbearable longing for his missing siblings, so he crushed the feelings down and tried not to think about it. 

Reginald Hargreeves joined the table just after the food was served. He did not greet his children in anyway, he simply began to eat and read the newspaper. At first Luther thought Klaus may get away with sleeping in, but not long after that he appeared, queasy and pallid, escorted to the table by their mother. Their father must have commanded her to retrieve the wayward sibling as it looked like he had just been dragged out of bed and shoved into the first clothes on hand. 

"Here you go dear, a nice breakfast will have you feeling better in no time." Their mother babbled cheerfully as she poured Klaus into his seat. Klaus immediately slumped onto the table, pillowing his head on his messily folded arms with a dramatic sigh.

"Number four sit up and eat your breakfast like a civilized person." Hargreeves demanded without looking up from his paper.

Klaus propped just his head up with one arm and began to listlessly push food around his plate, as if this were following his father's command. Vanya gave Klaus a tiny smile in greeting. He twirled the fingers of the hand propping his head off the table in a lazy wave.

"Number one, today you will train number four, he is out of practice and will need to be brought up to speed if he is to be useful on future missions."

Klaus raised a shaky hand, the one holding his spoon, to get attention. 

"I don't plan on being useful in future missions." He insisted, the spoon in his hand dripped oatmeal onto the table.

"Number four, your insolence will not be tolerated." Reginald fumed. "You will listen to number one or you will be punished." With that he left the table.

Klaus rolled his bloodshot eyes over to Luther to look at him without moving his head. 

"How are you going to punish me?" He asked. "Spanking? Sit me in the naughty corner?" He snickered which made him cough.

"Shut up Klaus." Luther told him.

Klaus started to answer but had to stop and turn his face into this shoulder to smother a string of sneezes.

"Still got the Colombian flu?" Vanya asked him sweetly.

"He doesn't have the flu, he's just hungover." Luther dismissed, then watched irritably as Klaus and Vanya shared an amused smile for some baffling reason. 

"Hurry up and finish your breakfast." Luther told his brother. "We have a lot to get through."

"Not hungry." Klaus pouted at him and slumped back onto the table.

"Fine then." Luther growled. "We can get started now then." 

Despite Klaus's protests, and Vanya's silent reproachful looks, Luther dragged his petulant brother to the gym to start training. 

“Luther, do we have to?” He asked squinting like he had a headache. “Can’t we just... not? And tell dad we did?” He implored.

But Luther was not budging on this. 

“Klaus don’t be so ungrateful, we live in a mansion, we get every meal cooked for us and we get to do incredible things. This could be a good life for you if you just applied yourself.”

They had a similar conversation just before Klaus ran away most recently. Luther had been heading up to his room when he saw his father striding angrily towards the wing of the house filled with rarely used guest rooms. He noticed Luther and indicated for him to come along. 

They went to one of the guest rooms and opened the door. Klaus was perched on the window sill, the window wide open and his legs dangling over the dangerous height. He was smoking a joint and looking peacefully out over the city, he probably hadn't noticed them come in because he was out of his mind stoned. Their father had probably noticed he was there from the cameras all over the house, Klaus wouldn't have noticed but Hargreeves had installed more since Ben's death. Klaus looked relaxed , he hadn't been his usual carefree self lately but sitting there, half out the window, blowing smoke over the rooftops he seemed at ease. But Luther worried that he would fall to his death so grabbed him by the scruff and hauled him back into the room. 

Confused Klaus dropped into a graceless heap on the floor the second Luther let go of him. He looked up at Luther and their father, the joint still hanging from the corner of his mouth and tried an disarming grin. he was probably about to crack a joke to try and diffuse the situation, humor was never a good strategy with their dad but this was a lesson Klaus never seemed to learn. On this occasion he never got to try it because before he could say anything their father backhanded his across the face, knocking the joint out of his mouth. 

“Number four!” Reginald seethed. “What have I told you about poisoning yourself in this way?”

Klaus scrambled upright. He looked up at his angry father, his eyes flickered to Luther, silently appealing for help. Luther set his face to impassive.

Klaus’s eyes were watering, he looked exhausted, with dark bags under his eyes and a hollowness to his face that didn't look healthy.

“I’m sorry dad, I just needed a break from them.” Klaus pleaded, gesturing to the seemingly empty hallway.

“You have not overcome your fear of the dead.” Reginald accused.

Klaus tensed, his eyes widened fearfully, he swallowed hard.

“They don’t scare me, they’re just annoying, and ...constant, they never shut up. And they look disgusting! it would put anyone off their lunch to see someone hovering around with a bashed in skull or their guts hanging out!” Klaus explained frantically.

“This is no excuse number four.” Reginald Hargreeves informed his son. “I will not allow you to spend your life lying about and getting high. If you do not complete training and attend missions you may not live in this house, and you cannot contribute to missions if you are poisoning yourself.” At that he turned away and stormed off.

Luther lingered behind to give a version of the lecture he was giving now. Klaus climbed out his bedroom window later that night.

"We will go through some defensive moves to start with." Luther informed Klaus after the newest iteration of his be more grateful lecture. "I will attack and you fend me off, then we'll switch."

Klaus stared at him blankly. He didn't get into any kind of stance or even seem to be paying much attention to what Luther was saying. He just stood there, slouching, arms folded and a bored but resigned expression. His eyes were only half open so he had his head tilted back to be able to see around his eyelashes. He did _not_ look like he could fend off an attack, he looked like a slight breeze would knock him over. 

"Klaus did you get that?" Luther snapped. 

"Yeah whatever." Klaus told him, a yawn stretching the end of the last word. "Let's just get this over with so I can go back to bed." His voice cracked and he turned his head into his shoulder to cough rather than uncross his arms. 

Klaus barely fended off Luther's attack. His movements were sloppy and much too slow for a mission. he would have been dead if it had been a real enemy Luther worried. Their father had been correct, Klaus would be a liability until he had gone through a lot of training. He tried to imagine a mission with just himself and Klaus. They hadn't done that yet, not since Diego had left. 

Klaus's attack on Luther was laughable. With practiced ease Luther flipped Klaus so he landed on his back and pinned him down with one arm like it was nothing. He had tried to be gentle but he still knocked the wind out of Klaus so Luther had to let him go when his brother practically coughed up a lung. He rolled to the side coughing and gasping until he retched.

"Are you OK?" Luther asked, he scrutinized Klaus more closely and noticed he was shaking and looked flushed, much more flushed then he should be from the small amount of running around he was doing. 

Klaus shot him a brief withering glare then went back to coughing.

"Are you coming down from being drunk and high sick or are you sick sick?" Luther clarified.

Klaus just shrugged.

"You don't know?" Luther asked, incredulous. 

Klaus got his coughing under control, he took in a long, shallow breath and let it out slowly before answering Luther.

"Could be both I guess." He said finally. 

"You can't tell?" Luther asked amazed.

Klaus just shrugged again.

"Well we should get mom to take a look at you, if you are genuinely sick you can go back to bed." Luther reasoned, he expected Klaus to jump on this opportunity so was a bit surprised when Klaus snapped at him.

"What difference does it make?" He was still sitting on the floor, he brushed off Luther's attempt to help him up and shakily pushed himself up with the help of the wall instead.

"Well if it's from the drugs..." Luther began.

"I'll still have a fever, and a headache, and feel like shit." Klaus interrupted him.

"Well yeah... but it will be your fault." Luther told him.

Klaus laughed abruptly at this, it set him off coughing until his eyes watered. Luther reached out to Klaus again, he didn't look steady on his feet. But again Klaus moved away from him, scowling.

"You think your such a good guy don't you." He wheezed angrily at Luther. "Think you're soooo morally superior to me."

"Well..." Luther began but Klaus cut him off.

"Well you know what, if the tables were turned, if you weren't feeling well and needed me to cover for you I would have." Klaus tells him defiantly. "I wouldn't question or care why you didn't feel well, I'd just cover for you."

Luther just stared at him blankly, unsure what to say. He knew this was true. Klaus was always ready to cover for anyone, whether it was because they were ill, or hungover, or even just to let them get away with things their father forbade. He was always kind and sympathetic if a sibling was hurt or sick, or sad. Even if he had been mad at them, he would always supply comforting hugs or kind words. It rankled Luther that Klaus, who was so weak and lacking in so many ways, was superior in this one, basic way. It seemed important, it made Luther worry he was lacking in other areas, in ways he didn't even understand. 

He let Klaus stagger away to bed and decided that he would cover for Klaus for the rest of the day. He would tell his father that Klaus was too sick for training. Maybe it was better they started off slowly anyway. 


	3. Ben

Ben followed Klaus back up to his room. Watching his brother wavering unsteadily he felt a sharp pang of regret that he had died and could therefore no longer interact with the world. He couldn't provide Klaus with the simple kindness of a steady hand to help him up the stairs. He died almost a year ago but the limitations of his ethereal existence were often still as raw as unhealed wounds. 

Klaus started sneezing again and as usual didn't stop at one, or two or three. By the seventh he gave an exasperated sigh and had to stop walking and clasp at the handrail to keep his balance, the compounded exertion of heaving his body up a flight of stairs while having a sneezing fit was too much. 

"Are you OK?" Ben asked, he had instinctively moved towards Klaus when he saw him sway and nearly loose balance, but managed to stop short of touching him, or rather, not touching him and phasing straight through him. 

Klaus nodded but slumped onto the stairs.

"Just a little dizzy." He told Ben, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath which instead of steadying him made him cough.

“You really don’t sound well...” Ben observed. “Maybe you should go see mom.”

Klaus dismissed this without consideration. Their mother's program had been tweaked to refuse Klaus medication of any kind, no matter how badly he appeared to need it. Sir Reginald had discovered this was the only way to prevent Klaus from fooling the AI into giving him narcotics. Klaus pulled himself up shakily with the handrail and dragged himself up the remaining stairs and began heading for his bedroom, but then changed his mind and staggered over to the bathroom instead. He paused at the bathroom sink, leaning heavily against the porcelain as he frowned at his sickly appearance. Pulling down his eyelids to examine the network of red veins, opening his mouth to try and look at his swollen throat. 

"you also look like shit." Ben confirmed from the doorway. 

Klaus spared him a baleful glace then lent over and drank water directly from the faucet until his stomach was uncomfortably full and sloshed as he straightened up. 

"I'd feel better if I wasn't so sober." Klaus complained.

Ben frowned at him. 

"Just go to bed, you're not well enough for any drug fueled antics right now." He insisted.

"I won't be able to sleep without _something_ to take the edge off." Klaus grumbled petulantly as he trudged back to his bedroom. 

Ben saw exactly what Klaus was talking about the second they entered his bedroom. The ghost of a horribly mangled person was waiting for them at the foot of Klaus's bed. The ghost was so mutilated they could not speak and merely wheezed and bubbled blood from its broken face. Ben worried that it may have been someone he had killed, those were always such awkward conversations. It seemed likely given how badly torn apart they were. 

Klaus took one look at it, turned abruptly and raced back to the bathroom as quickly as he could manage to throw up all the water he had just drunk. 

Ben sighed at the sound of his brother retching. He reluctantly approached the mangled ghost.

"Did I...um... kill you?" He asked the ghost, his tone conversational with just a hint of guilt, like he was asking a person he wasn't sure he recognized whether they had met or not.

The ghost wheezed more blood.

"Can you nod or shake your head?" Ben asked, the ghost's head was at an odd angle.

The ghost just wheezed again.

"OK, let's try this, two wheezes for yes, one for no." Ben told the ghost helpfully.

The ghost wheezed twice.

"Are you agreeing to the system?...Or saying yes I did kill you?" Ben asked

The ghost was silent.

"Sorry that wasn't yes or no." Ben realized. "Did I kill you?" He clarified.

The ghost wheezed twice again, this time waving its mangled limbs in a frustrated manner.

"I'm sorry about that." Ben told the ghost genuinely. "But if you want me to talk to you about it you are going to have to clean up your appearance. I know it's hard but you have to stop thinking about your death. Your body isn't real, it's like a thought projection, I'm not sure how it works but whatever you think you should look like, that's what you will look like. I try to stay calm all the time, I'm worried that if I panic I could revert back to that state I was in when I died, and trust me no one wants to see that!"

The two ghost stood in silence for a moment, with only the sound of Klaus retching in the background, as the mangled ghost processed what Ben had said.

Slowly the broken body reshaped itself back to an unblemished man in his mid thirties. The man looked down at himself ad gave a gasp of relief.

"Oh thank fucking Christ that worked!" He exclaimed.

"I second that." Klaus grumbled as he staggered back into the room. He clambered onto his bed and flopped down onto the mattress with a groan of pleasure at the comfort of finally lying down.

"Who the hell are you kids?" The ghost man asked. 

Ben looked surprised. "I thought you said I killed you."

Klaus groaned and twisted around on the bed so that he was sitting up.

"look sorry if we killed you as children..." His voice was muffled with congestion so he paused and hunted around for the tissues he'd had the night before. ".....but can we do this some other time?" He found the box but it was almost empty, he had to fumble for the last two at the bottom of the box.

"Fantastic." he grumbled, then blew his nose.

"You sound like shit kid." The ghost observed.

Klaus laughed at the absurdity of the moment, it rattled and ended in a cough.

Ben went over to him and tried to place the back of his hand against Klaus's forehead. It didn't work, his hand could not make contact.

"Are you trying to feel my brow for fever?" Klaus asked, amused.

"Why did you kill me?" The ghost man asked, interrupting. 

Klaus snuggled down under the covers so that just his eyes were visible above the blankets, he gave Ben puppy dog eyes, imploring him silently to deal with the ghost so he could rest.

Ben nodded to his brother and turned to the ghost of the man he'd killed, resigned. 

"Our father made us into a vigilante crime fighting team when we were only young children, we didn't understand it was wrong." Ben told the ghost.

"Why do you have superpowers?" The ghost asked after mulling the first piece of information over for a moment, he didn't seem angry, just confused.

"I don't know." Ben told the ghost honestly. "We were just born with them."

"My death was the craziest thing that ever happened to me." The ghost confided. "It was just so weird, I didn't know what the hell to think."

"I get that a lot." Ben admitted. "From people I killed."

Ben talked to the ghost quietly while Klaus napped, snoring in the background.

Grace woke him at lunch time to try and coax him into eating a bowl of soup. By that time however, more ghosts had shown up and several of them were really unappetizing to look at.

Klaus sat up and hunched over the bowl, breathing in the steam. He took several small mouthfuls and the hot, salty broth felt good on his throat but then he caught sight of another badly disfigured ghost and dropped the spoon in sudden disgust.

"Hey, Garry said you helped him stop looking so messed up." The new ghost explained. "So can you help me? Your asshole older brother threw me off the roof of a bank."

"I can't handle this." Klaus complained. Putting the bowl aside and struggling out of bed. "I need to get high."

"And he isn't our older brother, we are the same age." He snapped at the ghost.

"Sorry I'll help you in a minute." Ben told the new ghost tiredly.

“Do you have any money.” Klaus asked his brother in sudden inspiration.

“Uh, I’m dead... remember?”

“Well yeah obviously.” Klaus rolled his eyes. “I mean like, in your room? Did you have a secret horde?” 

Ben looked undecided.

“Are you just going to spend it on drugs.” He says asks.

“Uh yeah, obviously.” Klaus repeats, throwing his hands up.

Ben sighed, unsure what the correct moral solution was. Klaus looked so pitiful he caves in quickly.

“Well, yes, I was saving up for...” Ben doesn't bother to finish his sentence because Klaus is already out the door and making a beeline for his dead sibling’s room. Ben follows his brother, he is pleased to see Klaus is steadier on his feet after getting some rest, but he still looks flushed and is raspier and more congested than before.

"Klaus can you promise me something though, since it's my money. 

"Yeah what?" Klaus asked.

He pauses at the door and looks around carefully. He would be in so much shit if he got caught. Ben had died less than a year ago and for everyone else it was still very raw. Klaus had got used to the idea, after all he saw Ben everyday. But even he had avoided the room due to the mixed emotions it bought up. 

"Promise you will take care of yourself... just a little bit...until you get over this cold."

Klaus paused, surprised.

"Aw you don't need to worry, it's mostly just the comedown, a little hair of the dog will fix me right up." he grinned.

"I know I won't be able to convince you not to take any drugs at all, but could you take something that will help you rest, and then..you know...actually rest."

Klaus smiled at him fondly.

"Aw you big ol' softy." He looked around the abandoned room, exactly as Ben had left it.

“You ever come in here by yourself?... when you’re not, you know... with me?” Klaus asked the ghost.

“No, why would I? Not like I can pick up a book or sleep in the bed or anything.”

“I don’t know, just to hang out and reminisce? Where do you go when you’re not haunting me then?”

“There are only a few places I can go without you.” Ben admits. “I can be in the garden, where I was buried, or I can go to the place I died.”

“That’s pretty bleak, this is why I don’t ask you ghost related questions, the answer is always _such_ a downer.” Klaus admits, he begins rifling through Ben’s draws. “So... drug money?”

Ben scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Only if you promise no needle-drugs… or meth.” Ben hedged.

Klaus flaps an arm at him. “Fine whatever.”

Ben points out a plain wooden box on a shelf above his old bed. 

Klaus opens it and counts out a bunch of notes. “$160!” He kisses the money, then blows a kiss at his brother. 

In his elation he isn’t as careful as he should be as he exits Ben’s room and he runs strait into Luther.

Luther might not have said anything if Klaus’s face wasn’t so very expressive. In less than a second his features transformed from joyful to fearful then to a careful neutral.

“Oh hey Luther....” He coughed into his fist to stall for an explanation and ended up coughing longer than he planned, making his throat burn unpleasantly and chest ache.

“What were you doing in Ben’s room?” Luther asked, he tried not to let Klaus get to him, but he could feel his blood warm as he thought of Ben. It was a sensitive subject for Luther, he had a lot of unresolved guilt and sadness over what happened to his brother.

“Huh? Oh that?... hmm nothing really. Just.... you know... keeping his memory alive.” His eyes flicked to the side in irritation as Ben scoffs invisibly, then back to Luther. “I should get going…things to do…”

“What did you take?” Luther’s voice is low and dangerous.

“I don’t like what you are insinuating...”

“Klaus...” Luther growls. “...if you're willing to steal from your dead brother, what kind of a person are you?” 

Klaus feels prickling heat all over his body. Tears rush up to his eyes but he forces them back.

"I didn't steal from Ben." He told Luther hotly. "He told me I could have it."

Luther shook his head, his face hardening with anger. 

"I can't believe you tricked me into feeling sorry for you again." Luther told his brother. "It will be the last time though, trust me." 

And with that Luther stomped off.

"He's such a dick." The ghost of the man Luther had thrown off the bank roof as a thirteen year old muttered.

Klaus started laughing at this, and coughing, then suddenly crying and coughing.

"Hey what is it?" Ben asked alarmed. "Luther is just being a jerk, don't let him get to you." 

But Klaus still looked upset.

"It's just that i don't know if I would have stolen from you, you know if you really gone." He looked ashamed. "I probably would have." 

"Why is that supposed to be worse than stealing from a living person?" Ben asked. "It would have bothered me way more if you stole from me when I was alive." 

Klaus stopped crying and gave him a wan, watery smile. 

"You're right." He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and pulled himself together.

Ben wasn't able to convince Klaus to stay at the academy and get some more rest, but he did convince him to put on some thicker clothes before he climbed out the fire escape. 


End file.
